From: Yekahel To: Agiel Subject: Updated rulebook Agiel, Have you picked a name yet? I hear from Angra Mainyu that things are going really well with recruitment to the league. Angra is thinking we should be able to field at… Continue Reading
Listen to “The Only Gifts We Give” by Ian Florida, read by Folly Blaine: [display_podcast] Ian Florida writes in Missouri, USA. Folly Blaine is a writer living in the Pacific Northwest. “The Only Gifts We Give” by Ian Florida… Continue Reading
You were in my dreams last night; three of them. In the first dream, we were young: the fears of the world did not concern us. Dark hair hung to your shoulders. Your green eyes glinted with dreams and excitement.… Continue Reading
I wake in darkness, adrift in space. Circuits fire with animal instinct. I reach for the others, but where a vast Consciousness once clamored I find only an echoing void. I am the last, alone. My only memories are those… Continue Reading
We drink Cherry Coke on nights when the moon paints stripes across Cherokee Lake. As I hold a bottle in my hand, water licks cold against my pink-painted toes, and Ryder holds a cigarette between his thumb and pointer finger.… Continue Reading
Santa never brings me what I want for Christmas. Last year I went running downstairs and Momma was just sitting there smoking her morning cigarette, her hand shaking because she hasn’t had her whiskey yet. This year won’t be no… Continue Reading
Uncle Barney had Brillo-y hair he dyed a yellow that isn’t found in nature and a matching handlebar mustache he waxed and curled and kept touching with such fondness that people sometimes looked away. Aunt Myrtle said if he’d spent… Continue Reading
“Thanks for taking the job, Jake. Holidays and all. And more rain coming.” Handing him the keys to the empty house in the rear, before walking off. “Gonna be another wet Christmas.” Wet Christmases. He knew all about those. If… Continue Reading
Joe stood on the corner of Fair Oaks and Main fretting over the crumpled Christmas list in his hand. It was 8 p.m. Christmas Eve and his last hope of finding the Lego set his son so desperately wanted, the… Continue Reading
Listen to “Visions of Sugarplums: One Elf’s Descent Into Madness” by William Doonan, read by Brian J. Hunt: [display_podcast] William Doonan is an archaeologist and a mystery writer. His novels Grave Passage, Mediterranean Grave, and Grave Indulgence recount the… Continue Reading